


Rabbit Heart

by identikid



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Danger Days AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, possible joshler?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/identikid/pseuds/identikid
Summary: Tyler - known to the Killjoys as Blurryface - has been missing, presumed dead, for three months. His is the first in a string of disappearances of Killjoys all across the Zones, but when he reappears three months later, alone and starving on Route Guano, the sinister cause behind the disappearances is brought to light. With the metaphorical clock on their lives and freedom counting down, spirits are low, and all hope seems lost...or is it?





	Rabbit Heart

**Author's Note:**

> hope yall enjoy

Running. They were running faster than he felt they’d ever ran - faster than their first escape from the city, faster than even Show Pony on a good day. White flashlight beams flashed across his vision, razing across the desert like some kind of unholy fire, and zaps of unbearably hot ray gun blasts shot past him every few seconds, narrowly missing each frantic limb as he pumped his arms faster and harder still. Their pursuers were yelling illegibly, the two Scarecrows issuing orders loudly to the surrounding grunts and commanding the two on the run to ‘cease their resistance and comply, or face termination’.

He glanced behind him to his companion, face hidden by the dark and dust of Zone nights, keeping up behind him and turning back to shoot stray blasts back at their pursuers. He followed suit, aiming his gun loosely behind him and squeezing the trigger rapidly. There was a sickening, sizzling thud and loud cry which let him know he’d hit his target. His companion gave a triumphant yell at the sound, singing out a taunt into the unforgiving desert wind, and he gritted his teeth determinedly, turning back to face forwards again and quickly adjusting the mask back over his eyes to block some of the grit and sand being flung painfully against his bare skin. 

“Just a little further!” he shouted over the chaos of the chase, only half believing that he could be heard. His chest was screaming for air and his muscles burned with exhaustion, the backpack he carried thudding painfully against his back with every step, but he could see the lights in the distance, two blinking points in the darkness of the desert, getting closer and closer with every second. He spit more sand out of his mouth and shot a few more blasts over his shoulder, not even bothering to look this time, eyes focused on the headlights which were now heading rapidly towards them.

They were so close now. Escape would be easy as soon as they got to the van - their fellow ‘Joys commandeering the van had a fair few countermeasures for the Drac patrol the two of them had accidentally caught the attention of that were far more effective than the meagre ray guns they carried. His heart and stomach spun dizzily as he kept going across the sand, feet sinking dauntingly into the grittt desert terrain with every leap. So close - he could see the smashed out window and the shock of green hair framing the face which poked out, bearing a wild grin which was returned in kind, and -

boom.

He didn’t have to look - couldn’t turn to face the wave of heat and light which sent his shadow dashing in front of them - to know one of the Killjoys acting as their saviours had thrown a grenade into the fray of BLI cronies. Licks of flame and a superheated blast of sand flew by over his head and burned into his jacketed back as the van skidded to a halt and the brightly graffitied back doors flew open.

“Get in!” came a voice from the vehicle, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He took a flying leap into the open doors, letting the mercifully soft back of a car seat slow his speed to a halt, and collapsed to the floor.

“Blurryface,” he panted as soon as he had enough breath to speak, huffing a breathless laugh and leaning his head against the back of the seat briefly, dumping the backpack onto an empty space beside him. That had been way too close for comfort. They hadn’t expected the patrol of Dracs on guard at the warehouse they’d been raiding to be on such high alert - and they certainly hadn’t expected two Scarecrows. Tyler - Blurryface - had taken out their motorbikes with a few choice shots to the tires, and from there it’d been a gruelling mad dash back to where they’d left the van - which was far enough out and off-road in Zone 6 that it wouldn’t be noticed by any of the guards, but close enough to act as backup in case something like exactly this had happened. “That was too close.”

“Where is he?” 

Nuclear Spectre’s tense, confused question brought his head snapping up, neck swivelling around in less than a second. What he saw - rather, what he didn’t see - made his breath catch, freezing in place as a wave of pure horrified dread washed over him. 

Blurryface was nowhere to be seen. Looking outside the van doors he could see nothing but fire, the bright flame licking across the sand and ghosted Dracs' lifeless bodies jthe only thing visible in the pitch blackness of night. Sand still rained from the sky from the blast, but otherwise, the desert was cruelly still.

“He was…behind me, just a minute ago…” he muttered, pushing himself back up quickly and ignoring the way the muscles in his arms screamed in protest, “I saw him. Oh, god. He’s gotta be here, I’ll go check, I-I…” a hand on his shoulder pulled him back, and he looked up to see Spectre’s concerned face peering down at him, his electric green hair and eyes glowing supernaturally by the firelight. “I’ll go look - you stay here. He could’ve been caught by the grenade Truant threw. We can’t be long, though. If they send backup, we can’t be caught here - we don’t have enough explosives to deal with many more BLi assholes, especially if they’re packing weaponry. Truant.” Truant Wave leaned out of the drivers seat attentively. 

“Look after Spooky Jim, will you?” With that, the Killjoy jumped out of the van, drawing his own green and yellow raygun and morphing into a shadowed silhouette as he slunk off into the ruined patch of desert.

The man in question sat numbly against the back of the passenger seat, panic quickly replacing the horror coursing through his veins as he clutched tighter and tighter onto his raygun, painted red and black by Blurryface himself. Oh no. No, no, no. Blurry - no, Tyler - he couldn’t be gone - he couldn’t. He was keeping pace with him easily as they’d ran, he’d seen it, just a few minutes ago. What if he’d lost his footing in the loose sand dunes they’d been dashing over? What if he’d been ghosted by a Drac or Scarecrow’s raygun? Why hadn’t he just looked over his shoulder one more time?! He had to still be out there. He couldn’t be gone. Spooky paled as a horrifying thought came over him - what if he’d been caught by the grenade Truant had thrown?Suddenly he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bodies in the sand - Dracs he couldn't care less about, but hints of Tyler's face, his signature red ski mask, kept flickering across the blackened masks of the ghosted Dracs as flames licked across their bodies. His racing thoughts tripped over one another, jumbled and panicked, until jolting to a halt as Truant lay a cool hand over his. 

"Calm down, Spooky," came his mellow, soothing voice, an anchor to reality against the sheer anxiety consuming his mind, "we'll find him. It'll be fine.

"I didn't see him following you," Truant continued in a lower voice, and Josh looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Was he wearing his mask?" Josh nodded mutely, and Truant grimaced. "Okay. There's no way he got caught in the grenade, I couldn't see any red masks. It's okay, Spooky. He's out there somewhere."

After a moment of tense silence, Spectre hopped back into the van, slamming the doors shut deftly behind him and dodging around the two Killjoys in the back. 

"We have to go," he growled harshly, "fucking pigs must've called for backup. Lights, heading right for us, straight from the direction of Battery City." He revved the engine and the van grumbled to life.

"B-but Blurryface..." Josh protested weakly, eyes struggling to adjust in the now darkness of the van. His head was cloudy and dazed. His hands weren't real.

"I'm sorry, Spooks," Spectre replied, voice softening in pity. "I didn't see him. Didn't see a body either. He's probably still running - it's what we're best at, after all. We can look tomorrow, okay? We can't stay here." 

"I'll send word to keep an eye out over the airwaves," Truant added, with a gentle smile and a squeeze of his hand. "Poison and his crew are sleeping in our digs tonight, and if anyone can get a favour out of Dr D it's him. Well, aside from Show Pony, but you know them.” He laughed weakly, a half-hearted attempt to up Josh's spirits, and it was fake. Josh nodded numbly and the van sped off, away from the flames and Dracs and Blurryface, into the night. He didn't say a word the whole ride back to the dilapidated restaurant they called home. His brain was struggling to process anything as he blankly sorted through the stolen items from the raid in his backpack. Water. Batteries. A sizeable stash of Power Pup and tins of something which looked like it might once have been green beans. He snorted and shoved the backpack against the closed van doors, ignoring Truant's flinch. The backpack wasn't worth it.

Tyler was gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> so i was thinkin: joshler, yes or no?? if u read this please comment i CRAVE validation + lmk if u want joshler or nah because i don't know whether to write it in or not


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